#watchends

[fifthbornforrester]

🌸SEND THIS TO TEN OTHER PEOPLE WHO YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL, KEEP THE GAME GOING!🌸

AHHHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️i’m going to tag some people instead because i’m too lazy to send it to people 

@tocxmply / @snowmcid / @wclfcrown / @scndor / @hakune / @fullcfterrors / @scrvetherealm / @lannisqueen / @saltxwolf / @firstcfhername

[agirlingrey]

"I thought it was all silly superstition,” Alys confessed in a whisper, not even bothering to be embarrassed about how her voice was SHAKING. “Even when you told me, I took it for a mistake of yours, that mayhaps you confused a SAVAGE wildling tribe for something else.” She laughed hollowly, “In case I die or worse, come back with blue eyes,  I suppose I should apologise for my lack of FAITH.”

❛  @watchends  ❜  /  STARTER CALL.

[consultingsister-aa]

STARTER CALL // @watchends​

Coming North should have been like entering one of her story books but she found the cold and the wind and the snow very quickly lost its appeal. For the first sixteen years of her life, the youngest Holmes had spent her life at High Garden, with House Tyrell acting as wards while her father travelled around the seven kingdoms, doing lord knows what. Important things, she’d been lead to believe and that must be true, because although the family had no titles or privileges, Morland seemed to be greeted everywhere like an old friend and an honoured guest. This was no different at Winterfell, although Morland had confided in his daughter that he preferred House Stark to many others. They’re not frivolous, he had explained, they do not flatter or praise endlessly. This she might have surmised from watching the Starks for three nights, who were always polite but lacked the greasy tendencies of men, and woman, who try too hard. The eldest daughter had quickly become Celia’s companion but it was the bastard who intrigued Cecelia. She had never met one who was adopted into the family like a lawful son. But the chance to speak with him did not come until the fourth day, while she sat alone in the godswood, contemplating if accepting her father’s offer to accompany him had been a good idea. 

“Pray tell me Jon Snow,” she asks, in the form of an introduction, “what do you hope to hear from the faces in the trees? Do they speak to you? They haven’t said a word to me all morning and I have been very patient.” 

[dragvnflare-a]

@watchends

she didn’t KNOW him, and yet here she was waving at him. of course, she had seen him around before, and heard tyrion mention him, but never before had the pair crossed paths. why was he waving at HER anyway? it was a little confusing, but dany was too polite, and tried to meet knew people when she could. it was only when she heard movement behind her, and she quickly lowered her hand to her side, and turned her head to see tyrion talking with missandei, but had thrown the wave back at his friend until he had seen dany waving at him. oh gods--- this was AWKWARD. her cheeks flushed as red as the pencil skirt that she was wearing, and she raised her hand to tug at her white collar before turning back to the dark haired stranger, eyes wide with both horror and embarrassment. he must think of her as a right WEIRDO. “oh. my. gods. i am SO SORRY.” her voice was heavy with distraught, not being able to quite believe that she had been so stupid. “i did wonder why you were waving at me, but i waved back anyway because i love to be nice to people---but you weren’t waving at me anyway and now you must think of me as a RIGHT IDIOT.” she broke her gaze, causing her silver hair to fall over her face a little.

[pyrearchive-blog]

                          “                           Aye , the   only   way   is   forward.”   THE   PAST   WAS   A   DIFFICULT   THING   ;   Jon   has   found   himself   often   clinging   to   it   ,   as   if   it   would   become   present.   Jon   offers   her   a   tired   smile.  DON’T   LOOK   BACK  DAENERYS  ;  he   thinks.   He’s   looked   back   before   &   it   only   ends   in   a   despair   of   what   ifs.   It   doesn’t   help. “It’s  not   easy   though”

the silver queen will note what weight lies in the way this northern king offers her the curve of his mouth .. she knows the look of it, doesn’t she ?  ( how long have you seen it in the faces of those you love ? in the golden-eyed scribe missandei, in the bear knight, jorah mormont, in grey worm .. how often did that weight reflect back in a mirror, mother of dragons ? )  she wonders how many children this world had slaughtered young, to birth such tired eyes in what is left.  ❛ NO, ❜ she manages, ❛ it is never easy. .. tell me, jon snow, what ghosts do you turn away from this night ? ❜

    @watchends .         ⇢          jon snow .

[northrnking]

CANON DIALOGUE SC.  * / FOR JON   @watchends​​

   ❛  I’ll KILL them all . Every one of them  --- I will kill them all .   ❜

[firstcfhername]

“The tale is the same, told before and told again.”  // from @watchends

sansa  nods ,  acknowledging  her  brother  &&  his  sentiments .  IT’S  TRUE .  the  tale  is  repeated  ;  generations  apart ,  even .  old  nan  used  to  fill  their  heads  with  tales  from  beyond  the  wall ,  many  discrediting  her  stories  for  falsities  crafted  to  frighten  children .  YET ,  HERE  THEY  WERE .  they  were  preparing  for  the  battle  of  their  life ,  bannerman  united  under  one  cause  (  not  one  single  house  )   banded  together  to  fight  for  life .   there’s  a  moment  she  simply  looks  at  jon  ;  words  not  yet  forming .  HOW  FAR  THEY  HAD  COME .  to  think  back  on  their  childhood ,  how  awful  she  had  been  to  him  just  because  his  parentage  wasn’t  pure .  sansa  was  cruel ,  jon  &&  arya  received  the  brunt  of  it  ,   &&  now ,  she  clung  to  them  with  all  she  had .  including  bran ,  THE  LAST  OF  THE  STARKS .  a  family  so  large  dwindling  down  to  four  broken  souls .  a  sad  sort  of  smile  works  its  way  upon  her  features ,  eyes  of  tully  blue  putting  her  emotion  on  display .  WORRY ,  FEAR ,  ANXIETY .  the  dead  were  an  unknown  enemy  to  sansa ,  though  her  brother  knew  them  far  better  than  she  did .  his  insight  was  everything .   ❝  we  all  thought  old  nan  was  off  her  rocker ,   &&  yet  here  we  are  -  relying  on  her  tales  to  fight  a  war  against  the  enemies  i  believed  to  be  false .  ❞  her  smile  fades ,  expression  growing  more  serious .  LADY  SANSA  STARK  .  a  woman  steeled  by  war  who  seldom  smiles  these  days .  the  young  girl  with  endless  optimism  &&  grins  was  no  more ,  the  halls  of  winterfell  no  longer  echoed  with  her  laughter .  with  eyes  still  on  her  brother ,  she tilts  her  head  in  thought .  ❝  you’ve  faced  them ,  jon .  what  were  they  like  to  fight  ?  if  there’s  even  one  weakness  we  could  focus  on ,  perhaps  we  can   create  a  sort  of  strategy  around  that .  ❞

[dewintr]

@watchends: "we all thought we had nothing to lose."

a vast unknown  ,  like the maw of some indescribable beast  , tense  &  ready to bite .  she had never known a winter as terrible  nor as beautiful ,  a whiteness that burns the eye  ,  a coldness that scorches the skin  ,  it blinks &  glistens in a sky of snow  , fiery stars too far to warm them ,  ghosts in every shadow that lingers  ,  pale &  dead  . madness isn’t a frenzy or a commotion ,  it’s silence  ,   silence &  the face that stares back from the ice  .  

‘   you had no reason to believe otherwise  .   ’ the words are spoken softly ,  almost gently  ,  a hand reaching out from the armour of fur to rest upon his arm  ,  a light squeeze manifesting her almost compassion .  if anything  , there was no greater performer than  her ,  a master of theatrics  ,  of disguises  ,  a woman with no name  ,  but too heavy a past  ,  a slave donning the coat of a warrior in the lambskin of a free woman  .  she was ,  above all else  ,  a carnival of masks  ,  of changing states  –  now a smile  , next a tear  ,  taking center stage at the end of the world  .  ‘   but death seems to cling to you  ,  lord crow .   ’